


set in stone

by honey_beeing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ancient Greece, Blind Louis, F/F, Female Harry, Female Louis, Greek Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_beeing/pseuds/honey_beeing
Summary: Based onthiswriting prompt where Harry is Medusa and Louis is her blind lover.





	set in stone

  
When Medusa ran, she knew she had to live with it.

She's had to live with a number of things throughout her life. The fact that her parents were paupers that did their best to raise her. The few drachmas they procured barely filled their stomachs. The fact that she had to give up so much for her elder sisters. The fact that she couldn't walk about without men drooling over her or suitors lining up with motives she wanted nothing to do with. The fact that no one considered her to be the simple girl she was.

Then, came Poseidon. It's when he dragged her into the goddess's temple -the very goddess that Medusa prayed to every day- and frivolously had his way with her. He didn't listen to her screams or her pleas. It was when she thought of her beauty to be a curse.

Athena took mercy on her. Though Medusa had wanted to die, she made her an identity to live with. An identity that men would scare of, something that would teach them not to come near them again.

But again, men were fools. They assumed that the goddess had punished Medusa for defiling her temple, even though it wasn't even her fault. To add to it, they whispered about how her sisters had taken the brunt of it as well, with venomous snakes for hair. The worst was that Medusa could turn to stone who she looked at. And so, Medusa fled.

No one cared that her name meant 'protectress'. Nobody wanted to be protected, simply just wanted to be protected from her. When she left, she changed her name to Hamia, away from the Greek and their misconceptions. Hamia became Hammy. When Louis came along, Hammy became Harry.

She can still remember how she had found Louis. It's fresh as day.

Harry had been walking along the shores of Sarpethon for a few weeks. Her side of the island was uninhabited by men and occupied by snakes. It was lonely, but it was away from Cisthene, and for that she was grateful.

There she was, a doused maiden splayed along the coarse sands, unconscious after the water's tantrum. After being nursed, the woman, Iolanthe arose and looked her in the face. It was a while before it took Harry to realise that the maiden had been cursed to be sightless. It took longer for Iolanthe to become Iola, and for that to become Louis.

With time, Harry began to see the life she was meant to have; one filled with love and light. Louis made her laugh and held her when she wept and made her wreaths of flower to put atop her head even if her hair was snakes. Even if Louis couldn't see, there was adoration in her eyes, and was enough to calm Harry from the rage she felt like she was drowning in.

Life was life, and all life had to end, though.

 

🐍🐍🐍

"I don't recognise this path," huffs Louis, but she stumbled on and let herself be guided.

Harry hums in reply. It's a good day today. She could tell from they woke up in the morning, curled around each other. "That is because you have never been here. I came upon it during an evening stroll."

"Keeping secrets from me," gasps Louis. "The shame!"

"Quiet, we are nearly there."

But, of course, Louis always had a hard time keeping quiet. She spoke because she hated silence. Also, since she couldn't look around and occupy herself. "Is that a bird I hear? There are no birds where we live. Where are we, Harry?"

Harry smiles to herself, squeezing where her palm is around Louis's waist. "Patience, my love."

Louis doesn't seem to like that. "Hammmy," she moans. "Hammy, tell me!" She's persistent when she doesn't get an answer. "Hamia... Himoyachi... Hoodaja!" So stubborn. "Medusa!"

In retaliation, Harry feels her eyes flash and her hair hisses at once.

"I apologise," Louis says quietly. Her frown that was playful before, has now turned sombre.

"It is alright." Because it is.

Around two minutes of silence and them walking towards the chirping of the birds, they're introduced to the sounds of splashing water. Harry has to remember to look at Louis when she hears it for the first time. The sight of her blinding grin is what ambrosia is made of. "I decided I should show you this today, and share the beauty with you."

"You wish to _show_ it to me?" Louis's voice has a teasing edge. Before Harry can laugh or protest, they've reached the meadow and all of the simpering tones have left and been replaced with the sound of Louis's soft gasp. "Grass," she revels.

The surroundings are a beauty that cannot go without being written down. It appears as though it might hold the sun captive in its rise and set. Trees intertwining together around a large mass of dewy grassland. A wall of boulders supporting a waterfall that cascades tentatively down into a pond of much-coloured fish. In the pasture, bushes of berries and flowers are scattered, inhabiting rabbits. The birds are not seen but they make their presence known with their unabashed singing. It looks perfect to build a home in, but it looks better off as a niche as well.

While Harry lays out paraphernalia of wine, freshly baked bread and lush apples upon an overturned rock, Louis is propped up against a tree, head flicking away and in, trying to catch the sounds of many things. Her face is splitting up with delight. "Harry, this is marvellous."

"I believe it was made for you, _louloúdi mu_."

Louis wrinkles her nose in her direction. "I wish you would stop calling me that."

"You are my little flower," retorts Harry. "I shall call you it forever. Do not play as if you don't like it."

Then, Louis grumbles under her breath with a slight smile and lets herself be led to sit down in the grass. Her white robes make her look especially pure against the bright green of the earth. Harry chooses to keep the observation to herself.

It's only when Louis has taken a few sips from her chalice and crunched on an apple that she speaks. Her hand roams along the ground until it meets Harry's. "I declare this day the best day of my life, after the day I met you."

For once, she's glad that Louis can't see her blush, it would get her teased for days. "You do?"

"The wind, the sweet-smelling earth, the butterflies and the birds. I love it all. If we leave, I might leave a piece of my heart here. The remains are yours to keep, darling. You keep it safe, I trust you."

Harry wonders if they were always like this; talking about how much they love each other and praising one over the other. If it comes with having estranged lives or that that they've found each other in a place that never would have expected anything from the Fates. It makes Harry gush with feelings that Greek cannot articulate and she tries to embrace the feeling every day, not it just feels new every time. "I wish you could see it too, Louis. It truly is beautiful."

Something sad tweaks Louis's smile. "I wish it too," she sighs. A pregnant pause. "I wish I could see you too."

Harry laughs in response. "You would not like me for the way I look."

"I couldn't care. You're beautiful and I cannot be otherwise told."

Their hands curl together over the wet, patchy mud. "Even with my snakes?"

Louis reaches an arm up, precise at the right height to the latter's head. Practice over the time they've known each other. She pets the gaggle of snakes that arose from her touch. "Them too. Little children, they are. They are particularly sweet to me."

"They like you."

Louis beams even wider. "Wonderful. I love them too. I want to see them too."

It evokes a laugh out of Harry. "Though I think you were sculpted by Zeus himself, I wouldn't want you to turn into a sculpture once you see me."

"Everything in you loves me enough to not let it happen to me." For emphasis, she reaches perfectly for Harry's chin, tips it down and lets their lips meet in a kiss that's too splendid for a talk that seems to be steering towards something unknown. Harry's lips feel raw and electrified once Louis has stopped her magic, instead, moving to the dip under Harry's jaw and laying a trail of kisses, each biting than the last. She lets Louis pull down the sleeve of her tunic and attach her mouth to the skin that's already been kissed by goosebumps. This, Harry knew. They could have each other right now if they wanted to.

All of a sudden, Louis pops up. Her gaze is cast downwards, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "What happened?"

There was no use in lying. Louis can tell that something isn't right. "I cannot stop thinking."

"About what, darling?"

Harry licks her lips and pauses briefly. Their breathing has synced up, raggedy and baited with anticipation. This is not how she had imagined sharing something like this with Louis. Not today, not on a perfect day like this. Not the day that Louis has said was the best in her life. But, she has never been good at keeping things and Louis has never been good at not figuring her lover out.

"I have spoken to an oracle on the other side of the island."

Louis sits up straighter, face hardened. "An oracle?"

"You know my Fate is already decided. It'll be woven into tapestries soon enough."

"Is this is about..."

Harry sighs ruefully. "Yes, Poseidon. Amongst other news."

Louis's expression turns thunderous. "What did you find out?" She sounds like she's trying to fight back the crashing indignation in her voice.

"I'm supposedly pregnant. With his children."

Hands come up and feel the front of Harry's stomach. "How?"

Harry shakes her head. "That is not it. I'm Fated to be killed by a hero named Perseus. He is to cut my head off and gift it to Athena. My- his children will be born the time that it happens."

Louis's head drop, her long braid shielding her face from the latter's eyes. It was obvious that was formulating something, but in the end, no one could against the Fates when they've already decided what would happen. Louis knew that too.

"I could serve Athena, with my head on her shield," jokes Harry, to fill in the despondent silence.

Finally, Louis glances up. Her eyes are unfocused and determined with a fiery passion. "You are Medusa. You are Hamia. You are the guardian, and you will show women that the gods can be wretched men who think they can put their dirty hands on them. You will show them that the very men can't do it under your watch. You will protect them." Her hands encase Harry's face and pull it closer till their foreheads are touching. "You will fight, _polemistí mu._ _Astéri mu."_

Tears plop down Harry's eyes and fall onto Louis's cheeks. The birds have stopped singing, the wind has stopped howling and the world is narrowed down to Louis. Harry can't remember a time when the world wasn't anything but Louis; this is just an affirmation.

Louis clambers onto her, pushes her down till Harry's back is prostrate and then, Louis burrows herself against her side and hums a nonsensical tune. It's better than talking about their future, or the near lack of it. It's better than talking about how Louis would die of heartbreak once Harry is severed. But, Louis knows not to intercept. She sees Harry as an idol, something worth worshipping. If only she knew.

It's on the brink of sleep that Harry realises that Louis is mumbling to herself. "We will be down in Hades together. I've done enough sins, and if I haven't, I will. We shall be together..."

Both of them save their tears for the day it's worth. Today is not that day, for it's still the best day of Louis's life.

 

🐍🐍🐍

A few hours later, Harry wakes up to Louis placing a fragrant woven wreath of purple petunias on the crown of her head, the snakes hiss appreciatively. "You have my forever. I'm your flower, am I not?" She whispers into the meagre space between them.

Even if they don't know the time they have left with each other, Harry knows that they'll be waiting on each other. The idea doesn't seem bad.

They kiss in the infinities they measure for themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> Iolanthe is derived from Greek, 'iola' meaning "violet" and 'anthos' meaning "flowers". It's why Harry calls Louis 'flower'.
> 
> Feedback is appreciated x


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